_Then_," says the Clown,
"_the circus may begin!_"

LXXXII

Doc's got a _temper_; but, he says,
he's learnt it which is boss,
Yit has to _watch_ it, more er less....
I never seen him cross
But onc't, enough to make him swear;--
milch-cow stepped on his toe,
And Doc ripped out "_I doggies!_"--There's
the only case I know.

LXXXIII

Doc says that's what your temper's fer--
to hold back out o' view,
And learn it never to occur
on out ahead o' _you_.--
"_You_ lead the way," says Sifers--"git
your _temper_ back in line--
And _furdest_ back the _best_, ef it's
as mean a one as mine!"

[Illustration]

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LXXXIV

He hates contentions--can't abide
a wrangle er dispute
O' any kind; and he 'ull slide
out of a crowd and skoot
Up some back-alley 'fore he'll stand
and listen to a furse
When ary one's got upper-hand
and t' other one's got worse.

LXXXV

Doc says: "I 'spise, when pore and weak
and awk'ard talkers fails,
To see it's them with hardest cheek
and loudest mouth prevails.--
A' all-one-sided quarr'l'll make
me _biased_, mighty near,--
'Cause ginerly the side I take's
the one I never hear."

LXXXVI

What 'peals to Doc the most and best
is "seein' folks _agreed_,
And takin' ekal interest
and universal heed
O' ever'body _else's_ words
and idies--same as we
Wuz glad and chirpy as the birds--
jes as we'd _ort_ to be!"

LXXXVII

And _paterotic_! Like to git
Doc started, full and fair,
About the war, and why 't 'uz fit,
and what wuz 'complished there;
"And who wuz _wrong_," says Doc, "er
_right_, 't 'uz waste o' blood and tears,
All prophesied in _Black_ and _White_ fer
years and years and years!"

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LXXXVIII

And then he'll likely kind o' tetch
on old John Brown, and dwell
On what _his_ warnin's wuz; and ketch
his breath and cough, and tell
On down to Lincoln's death. And _then_--
well, he jes chokes and quits
With "I must go now, gentlemen!"
and grabs his hat, and _gits_!

LXXXIX

Doc's own war-rickord wuzn't won
so much in line o' fight
As line o' work and nussin' done
the wownded, day